I See You
by playergurl89
Summary: She stood by his bedside for three weeks while he was in a coma...What will happen when he wakes up?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show or characters of NCIS. This was made purely for the entertainment of fans of the show.**

_Beep…beep…beep…_

The incessant beeping had ceased irritating Ziva David about two weeks ago, when she finally accepted that it would stay stabilized, unlike the occasional wild bursts that occurred during the first few days that had brought medical personnel running into the room at all hours of the night. Now it provided her with a cold sort of comfort. As long as the monitor continued to beep, he was still alive. The fact that he had neither opened his eyes nor moved a muscle in three weeks didn't change that.

She lifted her arms in a stretch before rising from the hard plastic chair. She'd come every night since he had been admitted, refusing to leave after visiting hours were over. Eventually, one of the nurses brought in a cot for her to sleep on, but Ziva rarely took advantage of it. She preferred to sit close to his bed and talk to him about just about anything. When she got tired, she often laid her head against him and slept a while with his heartbeat in one ear, and the steady beep of the machine in her other ear.

More often than not, she held his hand while she sat with him. It wasn't something she thought about, it was just something she did. Something that, if she was honest, she had wanted to do for a long time now. She just couldn't take the plunge and move their relationship to that level any more than he seemed able to. All the signs of mutual interest were there, but they had both held back until…well, technically they hadn't really done anything, but it was the thought that counted, right? Wrong. She hadn't acted on her thoughts and now all she had were regrets.

Ziva walked around the bed to the window and looked down at the late night traffic. So many cars moved up and down the street, their occupants all focused on their unique locations, and, while she would have driven faster than any of the vehicles moving below the window, Ziva was right where she wanted to be. He wasn't aware of it, but she was there waiting for him to open those intelligent eyes of his so she could say something, _anything_, and know he could hear her.

The monotony of sound was abruptly broken by a sound other than beeping. It was quiet, but Ziva picked up on it. It was skills like being able to home in on even the subtlest change that had allowed her to survive this long. That and timing and sheer luck. She spun around at the sound, causing her long brown hair to flip over her shoulder, and fully expected to see someone standing in or near the door. No one was there. She heard the sound again and turned surprised brown eyes toward the bed.

'_Had he really…?' _she wondered as she returned to his side and took hold of his hand. "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand," she directed. In an effort to force her voice not to tremble, she'd sounded brusquer than she'd meant to. "Please," she added in a voice that was markedly more normal. She waited, staring at his face, willing him silently to open his eyes. "Please," she repeated softly, tears borne of dashed hopes beginning to sting her eyes. Funny, she hadn't cried once since the attack, but something as trivial as him not waking up now, as opposed to any other times he could have, made her want to do so now.

As she loosened her grip on his hand in defeat, his slack hand twitched. Ziva stood there, frozen. Afraid to hope, but hoping anyway. She couldn't help clutching at the first bit of hope he had given her that things would be alright in three weeks. Three very long weeks. "Please squeeze my hand, open your eyes, respond in any way, and just let me know I am not losing my mind. You know how I hate not being in control. Being crazy would make me a bat," she said, her mouth tilting upwards just a little at the corners.

"Batty."

She saw his mouth form the words and nearly fainted with shock. "Wh-what? What did you say?" she asked disbelievingly.

His eyes opened just enough for him to look at her. "Being crazy would make you…batty."

"Baruch HaShem," Ziva murmured. _Thank God_.

(**A/N: The next chapter, I will go backwards 3 weeks and show you all just what went down and in the process, reveal the identity of the man who has just woken up. I hope you guys liked this start. At the present, I don't see this being a long story. No more than maybe 5 chapters. If my intentions change, I'll let you all know. **

**Thanks TooMuchCaffine for correcting my Hebrew!****)**


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**(****A/N: Here it is! This chapter is much longer than the prologue.I hope you guys like it. I worked on it whenever I wasn't sleeping off this bug. Oh, and being a Grey's Anatomy addict does not make me a medical journal, so I tried to keep things simple in that regard ;) )**

"Oh _Zee-vaa_? Guess what I've got?"

Ziva glanced up from her computer screen to see Tony DiNozzo practically dancing his way off the elevator. She raised a curious eyebrow as she took in his good mood seeing as he was a few minutes late this morning. Surely he knew Gibbs would reprimand him for it. The elder man had the uncanny ability to arrive at just the right moment to catch them, or at least _Tony_, doing something they shouldn't.

"Syphilis?" Ziva deadpanned. Admittedly, he hadn't spoken lately of his girlfriends, for which she was thankful, but Ziva was slow when it came to forgetting. So slow, she would go so far as to say she never forgot anything…or she would if she didn't suspect Tony would come up with something trivial she _had _forgotten and then never let her live it down.

"Ha-ha-_ha_! Funny! Guess again," he challenged her, folding his arms over his chest and casually leaning a hip against her desk.

"A date?" Tim McGee asked from his desk. He'd briefly tried to convince himself that he wasn't interested, but, of course he was. Who wouldn't be? Besides, he liked guessing games.

"Hush, McGeek, it's not your turn yet."

Tony had hesitated before responding to Tim and his facial expression had frozen just enough to make Ziva wonder. Was that it? Did he have a date tonight? If so, what made him think she would be interested in hearing about it? Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she was. It was better to be aware of how things really were than to be in the dark. Again. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly at the memory of Jeanne Benoit.

"Tony, if you are not going to split the knowledge, kindly get away from my desk and let me work," Ziva said curtly.

"It's _share_ the knowledge, not split," he was quick to correct her. His sudden crestfallen expression had nothing to do with the dark glare he had earned from his partner. "You're not going to make a real guess?"

"Guess what?" a deeper voice asked. The three NCIS agents turned their attention to their approaching boss. Then Ziva and Tim turned to Tony, silently demanding he tell Gibbs and, in the process, tell them as well.

Tony gave them a sarcastic look in return and turned to Gibbs who was now standing right in front of him. Relaxing his stance, he smirked slightly. "I don't know, Boss. What?"

Tim and Ziva's eyes widened. Tony was just asking for one of Gibbs's infamous head-slaps with that smart aleck response. Their eyes were glued to the pair as they awaited Gibbs's reaction. They didn't have to wait long.

"A tip just came in about our missing sailor. Gear up, we're heading out to Georgetown," Gibbs ordered, turning on his heel and marching toward the elevator.

The looks on Tim and Ziva's faces were priceless. Tony gave them a silent _ha-ha_ and turned to follow Gibbs seeing as he hadn't even gotten around to putting his bag down. "He got lucky," Ziva excused, picking up her bag before marching after Tony and Gibbs.

"No, he's just Tony," Tim muttered under his breath with just a twinge of envy. He just knew he would have gotten head slapped if he'd pulled what Tony had. Not that he would, but still…Tossing the thought aside, he followed the other three to the elevator, stepping into the box just as the doors were closing.

"Oh yeah. DiNozzo…?"

"Yeah, Boss?" Tony asked, still feeling a bit cocky.

As they were both standing in front of Tony and Gibbs and facing forward, neither man saw the smirks on Ziva and Tim's faces at the sound of Gibbs's hand making contact with the back of Tony's head. "The next time I ask a question, I want it answered!"

"Yes, Boss," Tony replied tightly.

* * *

The sailor, who had failed to report for duty the day before, was dead. A fisher had found his ID in the river, and the team's sweep had, in turn, uncovered the body.

"Poor guy. His mind was probably still on his date when he got offed," Tony commented, setting the zoom on his camera so he could get a close up of the bullet wound to the head.

"How do you know he was on a date?" Ziva asked as she hunted around for anything that might be used as evidence.

"Well, it's kinda obvious," Tony replied, snapping another photo.

"_How_ is it obvious?" Ziva asked, rolling her eyes.

Tony lowered his camera. "He's wearing a tux."

"So?"

"Call it a hunch."

"I will call it like I spot it and call it a guess," Ziva retorted.

Snapping branches announced Tim's presence. "Hey, I called the restaurant and apparently he was a regular there, went weekly with his girlfriend. He had reservations for two made in advance for the next month, something he's been doing for the last six months or so. Gibbs wants you guys to head over there to question the staff after you finish."

"The night shift is working the morning shift, too?" Tony asked disbelievingly.

"No, the manager's calling them in to talk to you."

"Alright, thanks, Probie," Tony said dismissively. He whipped around to face Ziva with triumphantly smug expression. "What was that you were saying about my hunches?"

Ziva shrugged petulantly. "Lucky guess," she allowed.

"Oh, come _on_, a guess? It was my superior investigative instincts. How else do you explain my being able to tell what he was up to right before he died?"

"I do not know," Ziva snapped. She was irritated that she hadn't been able to piece it together herself by looking at the victim the way Tony had. A thought occurred to her and she shifted her gaze from Tony to Tim. "McGee, what restaurant are you referring to?"

"The one on the receipt we found in his wallet…" Tim replied slowly. He had been confused about what the heck they were talking about, but the pieces came together in his head. "Tony, you did tell Ziva about the wallet the cops turned over, right?"

Ziva's eyes were murderous when then refocused on a suddenly uncomfortable Tony. "I assume there was a charge for dinner for two on that receipt?"

"Yeah, there is," Tim confirmed, earning a glare from Tony. "What?" he asked innocently. "I've got to be getting back to headquarters. Whose PDA should I send the directions to the restaurant to?"

"Mine!" Ziva and Tony shouted simultaneously. Tony, because he hated Ziva's crazy driving. Ziva, because she wanted revenge and knew her driving unsettled Tony.

"McGee, what the hell is taking you so long?" The trio turned to see an irate Gibbs standing uphill from them.

"Coming boss," Tim replied, starting toward him.

"McGeek! Which one of us is doing the driving here?" Tony demanded impatiently.

Tim paused a moment to think about it. Ziva knew of several ways to cause him physical harm and was a trained assassin (the fact that she had never _actually _hurt him didn't factor into the equation), whereas Tony would make life miserable for him until Tony found some other way to entertain him self. But wait, didn't Tony do that already? "Ziva," Tim announced decisively and then trudged up the hill after Gibbs.

"Oh great," Tony muttered. Admittedly, there were a lot of things he liked about his partner, but, at the same time there were a lot of thing he _didn't_. Her driving was one of those things. Actually, her driving was number one on his 'Things-I-can't-stand-about-Ziva list. As for his _other _list…it was markedly harder to enumerate the items on that one.

Ten minutes later, Tony and Ziva were buckling their seat belts. Ziva cast a sideways glance at a less-than-thrilled Tony. Her ire had faded enough for her to say as she turned the key in the ignition, "Chin up Tony. I'll let you drive back to headquarters."

Tony did brighten up at this. "Really? You'd _really _let me drive?"

"I said I would, did I not?"

"Yeah, you did." Tony's smile lasted until Ziva pulled the car into traffic. Not only did his smile vanish, it was replaced by a grimace. "You know, Ziva, you are going to get you license revoked one of these days."

"I have not, yet."

"Emphasis on _yet_," Tony shot back.

"What was it you had?" Ziva asked, abruptly changed subject.

Tony was silent for a moment as he tried to figure out what the hell Ziva was talking about. He gave up. "Refresh my memory, what it are we talking about? My charm? No you said _had _as in past tense. My looks? No, still have that, too…"

A quiet chuckle bubbled out of Ziva's throat which caused an answering smile to emerge on Tony's lips. Unaware of it, Ziva said, "I am referring to the secret you said you had this morning."

"Oh. That."

Registering the odd note in his voice, Ziva stole another glance at Tony. It didn't look as though he intended to explain himself. He actually seemed a kittle uncomfortable. Curiosity piqued, she subtly prodded at him. "Are you going to make me try to guess again?"

"It's nothing," Tony said flippantly.

"Tell me, anyway," Ziva insisted.

"No, it's stupid…" Tony glanced at her in time to catch her looking at him and looked away. "Keep your eyes on the road before you kill us both."

"Why won't you tell—''

"I've got tickets to a Ravens game. They're playing the Browns, so it'll probably be an easy win, but I figure I'll go anyway, hang out with some of my frat brothers who are going to the game…well, actually it was one of them who gave me the tickets see someone else was supposed to…"

"Tony, you are rambling. What does this have to do with me?" Ziva asked.

"I was…well I mean I guess I…Abby or McGee would probably be better…" Tony blew out a loud breath. "Ziva, do you want to go to the game with me?"

Now Ziva was the quiet one. Tony snuck a glance at her, and then another, and another after that. With each look his conviction that he had just made a huge mistake grew. What was he doing here? There were only two pieces of relationship advice Gibbs had bothered to drill into his head, the second of which really hadn't been anything to worry about before…well…before a few things. The first bit of advice was never date a coworker, a line Tony tended to view as a squiggly at best. Anyone not on his specific team was a maybe, anyone not in his department was fair game. The other advice was not to get married. He wasn't thinking about marriage, but he was seeing how sticky things could get if Ziva saw his invitation as it was intended, as a date, and turned it down.

Hell, he was already way to nervous waiting for her answer. Would things be awkward if she turned him down? He had no idea. What he did know that, between searching the bottom of the bottle for reasons to blame himself for Jenny's death, not that he had to look hard, he was missing Ziva. He'd had so many wish-you-were-here moments while he was away that it was easier to count the times he wasn't thinking of her because he could actually count that high.

He ruefully thought of the time when she'd expressed disappointment in him, saying she'd thought he'd grown to the point where he needed a real woman. If only she'd known then how right she was. Or at least close. He'd only needed one woman…and that scared him. What scared him more though was the way the women who mattered most to him, disappeared from his life before he could tell them how important they were to him. Did Jenny even know that when he thought of the team and family, he thought of her, too? It wasn't like he'd told her.

"Okay, Tony. I will go to the game with you." Ziva stated, smoothly parking the car outside the restaurant.

"You, uh, you will?"

"Tony, would you please stop questioning my sincerity?" She turned to face him and her eyes held warmth that helped to set Tony at ease a little. "I want to go to the football game with you."

"In Boston?" Tony confirmed. "It's Friday and we don't have to go in tomorrow, so I'm not driving back tonight."

A suspicious glint appeared in Ziva's eyes. "Where would we stay the night?"

"I reserved two hotel rooms on the off chance you said yes." Tony replied without hesitation.

Ziva stared at him for a long moment, and then she said, "Okay, I believe you and yes, to Boston," she confirmed and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Alright, let's get to it!"

They interviewed the staff and got the girlfriend's name, Mary Guza, as well as a briefing about an altercation that occurred the night before. Apparently the sailor, Sergeant James Hinkley's, girlfriend was married and her husband showed up and argued with the both of them. Hinkely had left alone around 10:30. The Guzas had left together shortly after Hinkley.

After calling ahead with their new information, the duo headed back to NCIS and Tony did the driving this time. To both their relief, it was turning out to be an open and shut case. They really wanted to go to Boston. Tony honestly had no intention of sleeping with Ziva that weekend. He was determined not to rush it and mess everything up. Ziva wasn't sure whether she would want separate rooms at the end of the day. She found it awfully sexy when a date played the part of a gentleman.

Tony parked the car in the garage and they both got out and headed to the elevator. "I will be ready to go by 6," Ziva said as the doors slid open. Without awaiting his response, she stepped out and strolled over to her desk.

Tony ambled over to his own desk. "Hey, McGeek, what do you got?"

"Background check on our married couple. The wife is clean minus a couple traffic tickets. She did file battery charges against her husband a year ago. He was already out for parole and got sent back to jail. He just got released about a month ago."

"What was in jail for to begin with?" Ziva inquired.

"Aggravated assault," Tim replied promptly with a shrug. It was no surprise to any of them. "I've got an address for them upstream of where the victim was found."

"Ducky says he died between 11 pm and 1 am," Gibbs stated, "and there were signs of a struggle, but those could be from the restaurant. He'll know for sure when he finishes his examination. Let's go see what Abby's got for us."

"Hey, you guys," Abby greeted them cheerfully. "I got a fingerprint off the bullet and AFIS matched it to one Mr. William Robert Guza. I also matched it to one of the models he has registered."

"The husband," Tony commented thoughtfully. At this point they would more than likely be able to get a warrant for his arrest. They had both motive and means and he had a pretty good idea of when he'd had the opportunity. In Hinkley's shoes, he would have gone to the Guzas' house and tried to get Mrs. Guza to leave her husband after witnessing his rage at the restaurant. The husband could have shot him and dumped him in the river.

The wife not calling it in worried him, though. She left the restaurant with the husband and, based on the time of death, she was more than likely present when the murder had occurred. That meant she had either decided not to report it or was unable to. Either way, he made a mental note to himself to keep a special eye out for her.

An hour later, the team was heading back out to Georgetown. Their current destination was a mile upstream from their earlier destination and the house conveniently sat on a cliff above some rapids. There were two cars parked outside. A quick check of the license plates confirmed that they belonged to William Guza and James Hinkley, respectively.

Tony, Ziva, Tim, and Gibbs approached the large house cautiously with their guns drawn. Their intent was to bring Guza in, but with his violent history, there was a very good chance he would resist arrest. Gibbs gestured for Tony and Tim to go around the back of the house. As they moved away, Gibbs and Ziva took up a defensive position on either side of the doorframe. Gibbs rang the doorbell and then pounded on the door with a closed fist for good measure.

After a long moment, a muffled female voice asked from behind the closed door, "Who is it?"

"NCIS," he announced in a loud, clear voice, holding his badge up to the peephole in case she looked. "Am I talking to a Mrs. Mary Guza?" he asked.

"Yes."

"We've got some questions to ask you," Gibbs lied, in case her husband was nearby and listening.

"About what?" Mrs. Guza asked.

"Would you please let us in so I don't have to keep yelling?" Gibbs asked, starting to get a feeling in his gut.

There was a long pause. Then the two agents could hear the lock being turned. The door slid open, revealing a slight, pretty woman whose had had been carefully arranged to conceal half of her face. She looked nervous. Not scared, but nervous.

"Could you please step outside?" Ziva requested.

"Why do you have guns out if you just want to question me?" Mary asked, not moving a muscle.

"Where's your husband, Mrs. Guza?" Gibbs asked, ignoring her question. He saw it for the delay tactic that it was.

She opened her mouth to answer, but then there was a shout from the back of the house. Both Ziva and Gibbs ran past the woman, against her protests, into the house. It was easy to find their way to the back door. When they reached it, Tony was demanding that Guza drop his gun. Both Tony and Tim had their guns drawn on him, but the man was slow in complying.

"Drop it now," Gibbs reiterated, letting the man know he and Ziva were behind him so he was outnumbered by more than two to one.

"I'm not going back!" Guza shouted wildly, squeezing off a shot. Four other shots sounded simultaneously in instantaneous response. Guza missed his mark, which had been Tim, but the 4 other bullets had hit their target. Guza. The man fell to the ground, unconscious.

"No!" Mary screeched from behind Gibbs and Ziva. She ran toward her husband, tears running down her face. Ziva grabbed her while Gibbs checked her husband for a pulse."Murders! Filthy murderous _bastards_," the distraught woman was screaming. Her insults were healthily seasoned with obscenities.

Tony clapped a hand on a pale Tim's shoulder. "Alright, Probie?"

"Y-yeah, just…he almost shot me!"

"Yeah, _almost_. Otherwise he'd be dead," Tony said confidently. Either he, Ziva, or Gibbs, if not all three of them, would have made sure of that, he knew. None of the shots fired were kill shots. He could see that even if Mary was too overcome to hear what anyone was saying.

"Thanks," Tim said, touched. It was times like these that reminded him of why he put up with the way Tony often treated him. Even though the other man constantly picked on him and was incessantly annoying, he was still his friend who had his back.

"Hey, if you weren't around, they'd be trying to get _me_ to do all the grunt work," Tony scoffed, jabbing a thumb at the other half of the team. Ziva had released Mary, how was now standing silently as though in shock, and stepped away to make a phone call. She was probably calling in an ambulance for their perp who was being worked on by Gibbs, who was binding his wounds.

Tim, unfazed by the comment, went to see if Gibbs needed any assistance.

Tony walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked down. It wasn't necessarily a death-defying height, but the river below looked nasty. He could hear the roaring of the rushing water from up there. Shifted his gaze slightly, he saw a trail of blood on the grass a few feet to his left. "Hey, Probie, come here, and bring your kit," he ordered, having left his own in the car, the same as the others had.

Tony straightened up and turned to see if Tim was being a good Probie and doing as he was told. That was when he noticed Mary wasn't where Ziva had left her. "Hey, where's…?"

"He was all I had left!"

While Gibbs and Ziva's gazes as instinctively turned to Mary's last known location, Tony, who'd already realized she had moved, looked up at the window she was pointing a rifle out of, dragging his gun up as well. Seeing the murderous intent in her eyes, he squeezed off a shot an instant before she did, throwing off her aim just enough so that she missed her target. His heart. Instead, her bullet slammed into his shoulder. The force of it, combined with the recoil of his own shot, pushed him backward.

He instinctively flailed his arms for something to grab a hold of, but there was nothing but air within his reach.

"Tony!" Ziva shouted, running toward the cliff as he went over, leaving Gibbs to make sure Mary wouldn't try anything else. She was leaning against the window pane, crying and clutching her arm. Tim had run back at the sound of gun fire with his own gun at the ready. "Watch her!" Gibbs ordered him as he went inside to secure the obviously unstable woman who had just shot his agent. He wanted to go help Tony, but first things first. Mary Guza would more than likely try again if he let her.

Ziva stood at the cliff, watching and waiting for Tony to surface. "Tony!" she shouted again, anxiously scanning the water. She wanted to jump in after him, but she knew such a move would be suicidal. What was the damn man thinking of standing so close to the edge? "Don't do this to me, damn it," she muttered furiously.

They were supposed to drive to Baltimore that night. He was going to take her to her first football game. He had finally taken the risk neither of them had previously had the courage to take. It was one thing to get up every morning to do a job that, in this day and age, you constantly ran the risk of dying to do. It was another to open yourself up to the risk of being hurt. Any relationship that went beyond casual carried the possibility of someone getting hurt and they both knew casual would never work between them. Hence the unspoken agreement of look, and maybe flirt a bit, but don't touch.

When she'd least expected it, he surfaced a little downstream, gasping for air. "Tony, hang on! I'll be right down!" Ziva shouted, hoping he'd been able to hear her. And if he hadn't, she hoped he knew there was no way in hell she would stand idly by while he drowned, that she would be coming after him. She ran along the cliff, occasionally glancing toward where she'd seen Tony, looking for a way down.

Before long, the ground tilted so that she was running downhill. It was more luck than anything else that she didn't trip and fall the rest of the way down at the reckless speed she was moving at. The water was a little calmer where she reached the bank, but she didn't see Tony. She ran up stream, scanning the water, praying he would surface or that she would find him on dry ground. She repeatedly called his name while she looked. Her voice rose when she finally spotted him, draped motionlessly over a rock near the end of the rapids.

Ziva ran a little further upstream, tearing off her jacket as she moved. She paused to kick off her shoes, and then dove into the water. The tide immediately tried to pull her under and she didn't fight it, reserving her strength and letting it carry her closer to Tony. Once she judged herself to be close enough, she swam hard to the surface. She was just in time to grab a hold of Tony's rock.

Upon realizing his face was submerged, Ziva single-handedly adjusted his body so that his head was on the rock and turned him over so he was on his back, careful to keep a tight grip on the rock with her other hand. She took not of the gash on his head, but knew she could do nothing about that at the moment. It was difficult for her to hold on and ensure he didn't slip away at the same time, but she somehow managed to check for a pulse. Finding one, however faint, she turned her head toward the riverbank when she heard Tim calling her name. "He's alive," Ziva shouted.

Tim was relieved. He'd taken off running after Ziva as soon as he saw Gibbs in the window with Mary. He watched as Ziva released the rock and took hold of Tony at the same time, knowing she was going to let the river carry them to safer waters. He jogged a little to where he thought they would surface. When they did, he waded out to help Ziva drag Tony out of the water.

They laid him out and checked to see if he was breathing, checking his pulse as well. Unable to detect either vital bodily function, they began CPR and continued until Gibbs showed up with paramedics on his heels. The paramedics took over, directing Tim and Ziva to move away as they set up a defibrillator. They stood back with Gibbs and the three waited in tense silence while they waited for something to change.

Ziva was about to pass out from lack of oxygen when one of the paramedics announced that Tony had a pulse. They quickly loaded him onto a board so they could carry him up to the ambulance.

The team helped them up over the uneven ground, and then Gibbs tossed Ziva the keys. Tim didn't complain about her driving, even silently willing her to go faster. They left the Guzas with the police who had arrived on the heels of the ambulance.

They team arrived at the hospital just a few minutes behind the ambulance and was informed that Tony was being rushed into surgery. Tim and Ziva headed to the waiting room, but Gibbs tracked down the coffee machine for a cup of hospital sludge. He needed some caffeine, but he dared not stray from the hospital without word on Tony's condition.

Half an hour went by and then they were joined by Abby and Director Vance. Abby came bearing hugs and tears, Leon came bearing real coffee. Ducky hadn't checked in with them when he arrived, so they were surprised when, shortly after Abby's and Leon's arrivals, he came out to update them.

"I have been observing Anthony's surgery," he began gravely, "and the bullet has been removed. It missed vital nerves and organs. He will be out of surgery shortly."

"But?" Gibbs prompted, recognizing the fact that Ducky was far too somber to have only good news to impart.

"But, there is some pressure on his brain that he may or may not have to have another surgery for…either way, they would prefer that he be more stable before undergoing brain surgery."

"Is he going to survive?" Leon asked the question he knew none of the others could ask.

"God willing," Ducky replied, causing Abby to burst into tears she turned and buried in Tim's shoulder.

"May we see him?" Ziva asked quietly.

"After he is settled in the intensive care unit," Ducky replied. "A nurse should be out to let you know when. I need to get back to headquarters seeing as I have autopsies to perform." He left.

"You all have work to be doing," Leon reminded them after a slight hesitation. He knew they all wanted to be here, but shootings always generated extra paperwork and they were still on the clock. "I don't have any meeting for the rest of the day. I can have all of my calls forwarded to my cell and keep you apprised."

All but Gibbs were surprised by the offer, but slowly, they all wandered away after brief visits with Tony.

Abby went first, but at the sight of all the machines hooked up to her best friend, she started crying too hard to say anything. She was too scared to even hug him, and left to cry to Gibbs while Tim went in.

Tim stood at the foot of the bed and took in the various monitors and the ventilator. "Okay, I admit it. The characters in Deep Six were based on you guys. Can you blame me? You guys were easy to write about. I've got a whole series planned in my head and you know what? Nowhere in those plans do you die. So…don't do it, okay? We need you. _I _need you. You've still got a lot to teach this probie."

Ziva came in and leaned in close to his ear. "If this is a clever way of getting out of our plans, you are out of luck. I will accept a water check," she informed him, intentionally screwing up the term rain check. She was irrationally disappointed when he didn't correct her. "I will be back. Promise," she said, and then left.

Gibbs went in and fixed his fallen agent with a piercing stare. "I told you once, and it shouldn't need repeating, but…you will not die. Do you hear me? You. Will not. Die."

After the team had left, Leon went in to see Tony. "You've got a lot of people pulling for you DiNozzo. Don't let them down."

* * *

It was touch and go for a few days, but then Tony stabilized. His team members came and went daily after work, and every time they dropped in, they saw Ziva, unaware that she only left to go to work or shower and change her clothes. The doctors monitored a comatose Tony closely while using medications to help relieve the swelling.

A week after Tony was admitted, his father came to see him and was there when Ziva arrived after work. "Oh, hello. Who are you?" she asked warily, seeing him sitting in the chair she usually occupied at Tony's bedside.

"Robert. DiNozzo. And you?" he returned, rising to his feet.

"Ziva David. You are Tony's father?"

"I'm sure he would use the term loosely…as a matter of fact, so would I. I haven't been a very good one…."

"Why are you here?" Ziva asked, not caring if she sounded rude. She was there for Tony, not to listen to his father's sob story.

"I had to meet with his doctors about his care. I've got to be going. Pleasure meeting you, Ms. David," Robert said. "And thank you."

Ziva frowned. "For what?"

"Looking out for my son," the man replied simply. He walked out past her and didn't return to the hospital.

That was the only unexpected visit that occurred the whole three weeks Tony was comatose. Ziva didn't think it worth mentioning to the team, though she did wonder about it occasionally. She was pretty sure it was on his father's orders that Tony was moved to a private corner room that received lots of sunshine during the day, a consideration that thawed her a little toward the man.

When Tony finally woke up, it was only for a little while. He fell into a natural sleep while he was being checked over. While he was glad to have found Ziva there when he woke up, he was too tired to stay awake. He'd expected to be alone the next time he woke, and he was.


End file.
